


Splitting Image

by Numisma (InTheTatras)



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-23
Updated: 2006-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-07 23:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4281804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheTatras/pseuds/Numisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's too much empty, wide open space. Spoilers for Nationals Arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splitting Image

Even the wind in his hair as he flips and turns through the air -how pleasant and refreshing it feels- isn't enough to take his mind off the fact that he's the only one on his side of the court.

There's too much empty, wide open space.

Kikumaru jumps, twists and spins, sending the ball past the net. The ball is in. He scores a point. The crowd cheers. But Kikumaru doesn't quite hear their words. He's too busy listening, and if he strains, he can hear what seems to be amiss.

The heavy, labored breathing of another somewhere behind him.

His eyes flash and then they close. If he concentrates... if he concentrates, he can fill in the gap himself.

And it feels good, he tells himself as he does the impossible. It feels good for that gap to be filled, it feels good to be self-sufficient. The spectators can only stare and wonder if their eyes are lying. 

The other team cries foul. This is singles; even a halving of one side's weights can tip the scales and disturb the balance. Which side is the one blessed by the gods?

Kikumaru gets away with it anyway. He's all grins and giggles as one afterimage covers for the other. Kikumaru knows himself well, which makes for good coverage whether he's in front or back.

It's one thing to do impossible things with the racket or the ball, but another to do such the impossible with oneself. The watchers can't decide which Kikumaru to follow, whose back to keep their eyes on, whose sleeve to watch for more tricks.

Kikumaru merely listens for what was missing, and hopes he finds it. The whistling in his ears is a little different now.

When the match is over, the cheers are finally roaring through him, thrumming through him as he wipes the sweat from his brow -and _his_ brow as well- and tries to still his racing heart. He feels alive. It's when he turns and sees Oishi, meets with the pride in his eyes, that he remembers.

Some things cannot be replaced.

Kikumaru smiles, shoving aside the ache in his chest. The other Kikumaru flickers. The court is empty again save for the lone figure who _should_ be staring up at his teammates. Somehow this trick of light has lost its luster. He's had his fun, though. And Kikumaru shuts his eyes tightly and laughs; he couldn't be happier.


End file.
